


Hold me too tight

by cammyohcammy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Biting, Blow Jobs, Bruises, M/M, Sibling Incest, Weecest, basically if you have a thing for hips this fic is for you, slight painplay?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 06:00:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cammyohcammy/pseuds/cammyohcammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has a thing for hips. Sam likes that Dean has a thing for hips. Eventually Dean really, <em>really</em> has a thing for Sam's hips. Sam is fifteen. Dean is around eighteen or nineteen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold me too tight

**Author's Note:**

> I read [this Destiel fic](http://m.fanfiction.net/s/6160879/1/) about Cas's hips and I hadddd to try writing a weecest hips!fic. My first wincest/weecest smut. Be kind.  
> I do not own SPN or any of its characters and everything in this story is untrue (unfortunately).  
> This fic contains sibling incest but that's okay cause you probably already know that but hey don't say I didn't warn you if it isn't your cup of tea and you didn't read the Dean/Sam pairing up top???  
> HOWEVER, if it is, read and enjoy!

It happened like this.

It was mid morning. John went out on a hunt alone, and he told Dean to stay behind to watch Sammy. Dean was fucking pissed. He even _protested,_ something Dean never did to his father.

"I'm not arguing with you, Dean. You remember what happened last time we left Sam alone."

"That spirit barely left a mark on him!" Dean argued. "Besides, the kid has to learn sometime-"

John gave him a warning look, and Dean immediately closed his mouth and shut up. He should know better than to argue with his dad, but he hated babysitting Sammy. Dean loved and craved the action of hunting, it was in his blood. Staying behind was almost unnatural to him. But he didn't have a voice here.

"Until Sam turns sixteen in a couple months, he is not to be left alone, and you watch him while I take care of cases. The both of you can come along on the ones that I see fit."

Dean sighed. "Yes sir."

By the time afternoon rolls around, Dean's ready to tear his hair out from boredom. Sammy woke up around noon, and walked into the motel kitchen with groggy eyes and messy hair that fell over his eyes. Dean couldn't help but smile.

"Hey. You're finally awake, Sammy," Dean said while he ruffled Sam's hair lovingly. Sam lazily slapped his hand away with a tired smile. "Why aren't you with dad?" he asked.

Dean shrugged. "Just..thought I'd spend some time with you, is all," Dean lied. As much as he hated babysitting Sam, he hated making Sam look as if he's a burden to him and their dad even more. It's not like it was _him_ who made Dean stay behind. Taking his anger out on Sam wouldn't be fair.

But Sam wasn't stupid. He knew better than to think that his older brother who's practically a soldier would _choose_ to stay behind just to "spend time" with his little brother. The way Sam could pick out lies was unbelievable. "Dad made you stay here and watch me," Sam said quietly.

Dean bit his lip and nodded hesitantly. Sam shook his head. "I can take care of myself! I'm not a baby anymore. Why can't dad see that?" Sam whined.

"Sam, look, I tried convincing dad to let me go with him. But talking to him is like talking to that wall over there. He's not going to change his mind, at least until you turn sixteen."

Sam shook his head again. "But why do I need to turn the magic number sixteen to be trusted alone? It's a couple months away, I won't be any different from now until then."

"Well to dad, you will be. Like I said, nothing will change his mind, so suck it up and just deal with it," Dean said, a little more harshly than he intended for it to come out.

Sam muttered something angrily under his breath and walked over to get some cereal. Dean just realized how hungry he was too and decided to grab a bowl himself.

"So, what are you going to do now that you're stuck here with me?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. "Dunno, maybe call up Monica and ask her to come over." A smile crept on Dean's face as he said it, and Sam looked at him quizzically.  
"Why do you like her so much?" Sam asked. "She's not very nice. Or smart. Well, actually, nevermind, she's totally your type."

"Jealous that I get girls and you don't?" Dean said with a grin.

"Gross," Sam said with a scrunched up face as he poured cereal into a bowl.

"SO not gross," Dean replied with a laugh. "You'll understand one day, Sammy. And besides, I'm not into her because of her kindness or intelligence, it's her fucking _hips._

Sam stopped pouring cereal in his bowl instantly and looked over at Dean. "Her...hips?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, dude, she has these..fuck, these fucking _gorgeous_ hips. Her hip bones stick out a little, too, which is even hotter."

Sam tiled his head a little at his brother and took a few steps toward him. "You..like hips? And hipbones?" Sam asked curiously.

Dean looked at his brother, raising his eyebrows. He opened his mouth, but he was choked on his own words and nothing came out. Since when does he care what Dean's into, anyway? Sam's been a little hormonal since he hit puberty, but asking about _kinks_ with his older brother was a little..odd.

"Uh, yeah," Dean eventually replied when he found words. "Hips are..hips are nice."

Sam nodded, but didn't look away from Dean. Dean could always read his little brother no problem, but he's drawing a blank on what the fuck could the look on Sam's face mean right now.

"You know," Sam said, "I..I have hipbones. I've had them for a little while now."

Dean's stomach did a back flip. What was Sam doing? He wasn't actually suggesting...

That's when Sam _lifted up his fucking shirt,_ exposing his lower stomach, his hips, and, oh, _those hip bones._

Dean doesn't care. He doesn't fucking care. His cock twitching in his pants meant nothing. His face burning up and, god, him _holding back a fucking moan_ was totally nothing to worry about.

"That's..nice, Sammy," Dean tried to say carelessly, but it came out choked up and messy. He turned around and acted like he's fiddling with something on the counter top, when Sam scoots in and sandwiches himself between the counter top and Dean, rubbing against Dean's slight hard on while doing so and it made Dean wince a little.

Their faces were inches away from each other, their hot breaths ghosted on each other's faces. Dean's pretty sure Sam could hear his heartbeat, or maybe, just maybe, that's just Dean hearing Sam's heartbeat.

Sam lifted up his shirt again and looked up at Dean innocently. "You wanna feel them?" Sam whispered.

Dean tried to hold back another moan, but failed piteously. He thought he was gonna throw up. His stomach was doing hundreds of back flips a second and suddenly it felt like 100 degrees in the small motel kitchen. Part of him was saying 'Dean Winchester you back the fuck up from your little brother and _walk away_ NOW' and another part was **screaming** 'for the love of _god,_ man, grab his fuckin' hips and never let go.'

Dean didn't do either, though. He's frozen. His muscles tighten like a vice and his breathing was escalating by the second. His eyes were glued to Sam's hips, fucking beautifully carved hips that god himself made just for him. They made Monica's hips look as desirable as a kick in the balls.

Sam slowly took one of Dean's hands and lied it on his left hip. Dean didn't know _what to do,_ he was just standing their with his hand laying awkwardly on Sam's hip searching in his head for an answer, a logical explanation, and he doesn't find one.

He tightened his hand around Sam's hip, running his thumb over his hipbone lightly. He put his other hand on his right hip and did the same, Sam shivering underneath his touch. Dean went crazy, the way Sam was practically gift wrapping himself and giving himself over to Dean. Dean grabbed a little bit tighter onto his hips, dug his thumb a little deeper on his hipbones, making Sam do a sharp inhale and bucking his hips into Dean's hands.

Both of Sams hands were back on the counter supporting his weight as he thrusted his hips, threw his head back and letting out shuddering moans that put shivers down Dean's spine. Soon, Dean was losing his control and grabbing tighter, and tighter, digging his fingers into Sam's skin, pushing his thumbs into Sam's hipbones, until Dean realized that his fingers are digging into Sam enough to be _hurting_ him. But the look on Sam's face was full of pleasure, not pain. He made no innuendo for Dean to stop. Actually, he moved his hips as if to tell dean to _keep going._

Soon Dean was squeezing the shit out of Sams hips, fingers and nails digging in his skin, Sam was moaning at the top of his lungs, desperately thrusting his hips, practically sobbing. Dean just watched. Watched his little brother crumble in his hands.

"Dean," he wined, "Oh, Dean, _please_ , oh god..I can't take..."

Dean thrusted his hips twice down on Sam's hard on, and Sam came messily in his pants, shuddering and shaking and throwing his head back and choking out Dean's name as he does so.

It was too much for Dean to handle, seeing his little brother come undone in his hands. He put his head down on Sam's chest, and with a thrust of Deans hips and a squeeze to Sam's, he came too, moaning countess obscenities in Sam's sweat covered shirt.

They stood there for a little while, trying to catch their breath, trying to make sense of what just happened. But when the two of them heard the door to the motel open that indicated that their father was back, Dean practically sprinted away from Sam's vicinity and into the bathroom to clean himself up.

Dean didn't call up Monica that day.

For the next couple days, John took Dean and Sam along with him to some cases. The cases weren't really 'action filled' to Dean's liking, because they mostly consisted of talking to people and getting information. It bored Dean to tears. But mostly, he didn't really mind. After the whole thing that happened with Sam, being alone with him would be weird. The two of them didn't talk or even look in each other's general direction. But Dean knew he would have to face Sam alone sooner or later, and they're going to have to talk about it eventually.

One day, while Sam was grabbing something from the back of the Impala for their father, Sam's shirt sort of rode up, and Dean's eyes absentmindedly went to Sam's hips.

There were bruises on them.

Dean fucking _choked._

"You okay, son?" John asked Dean, who just so happened to be standing right fucking next to him.

Dean panicked. "Uh. Yeah. Yeah, I'm good," he replied, avoiding all eye contact with Sam, almost too obviously. "Just something in my throat is all," he said, followed by a sound of him clearing is throat fakely.

It was all he could do to not run behind the impala and jerk off or throw up or both.

 

The next day, John wanted Sam and Dean to stay behind while he left for a case that he considered too dangerous for Sam to go along.

"Be good boys," John said before he left. "Remember, Dean, don't let Sam out of your sight."

 _'oh,'_ Dean thought, _'if only you knew.'_

For an hour or so, they actually did a good job avoiding each other. Sam was lying down on one of the beds and played on his little hand-held Nintendo game that their father got him for his birthday, and Dean watched TV. 

Eventually, something in Dean broke, and he was done playing the avoiding game. He stood up and walked over to Sam's bed and sat down. Sam looked up from the game he was playing, and immediately set it aside when he saw Dean walking towards him.

Dean lifted up Sam's shirt, exposing the fading bruises that Dean left there and he winced.

"It's not that big of a deal, Dean," Sam said before Dean could say something.

"I was _hurting_ you, Sam! Why didn't you tell me to stop?!" Dean shouted.

Sam caught on his words. "I..I don't know..I..liked it?"

"You liked it." Dean repeated, almost mockingly.

"Yeah," Sam said. "I liked it." Sam swallowed. "And you..liked hurting me?" he asked.

"No!" Dean responded immediately. "I liked the way I was making you feel good, Sammy, not inflicting _pain_ on you!" Dean absentmindedly ran his fingers over the bruises.

"Dean, It's not that big of a-"

"Stop saying that," Dean demanded.

"I'm just saying," Sam said, "I loved the way you grabbed my hips the way you did. So _suck it up and just deal with it,"_ Sam mimicked.

Dean ran his fingers over his hipbones and smiled. "Little shit," he said under his breath, which caused Sam to do a little giggle.

"I bet your lips would feel even better," Sam said quietly with a grin. This made Dean's head fly up instantly and look down at his brother. Sam bit his bottom lip.

"Kiss my hips, Dean?" he asked innocently.

 _Oh,_ Dean really had to fight to hold back a groan.

"You know how fucking.. _wrong_ this is, don't you?" Dean asked shakily.

Sam didn't answer. He pulled his sweats down to the pubic line, making his hips totally exposed, and sat up a bit and lightly pulled down Dean's head towards his hips.

Sam sprawled out on the bed and Dean's lips lightly, almost hesitantly brushed Sam's left hip. When he heard Sam make little gasping noises, he kissed a little harder, using his tongue and eventually nibbling his skin with his teeth.

Sam groaned, shivered, made little choking noises that Dean fucking loved. Dean moved to Sam's right hip and licked, nibbled, and kissed where his hipbone is. He eventually moved his lips to just below Sam's bellybutton, his hand teasingly rubbing the outside of Sam's sweats over his hard, throbbing dick.

"This what you like, baby boy?" Dean mumbled in Sam's warm skin while his thumb ran over one of his hipbones. "You like my mouth all over you?"

Sam moaned in response, bucking his hips up and arching his back. Dean teasingly put his hand in Sam's sweats and in his boxers, sliding his hand up and down and kissing his hips again.

"Please," Sam begged. "Dean, Please, god.."

He pulled Sam's sweatpants and boxers down until his cock is exposed, pre come already at the tip. Dean licks it, making Sam shudder and groan. Dean's mind was going a mile a minute, his head filled with nothing but _Sammy Sammy Sammy take care of Sammy make Sammy come_. 

He put his whole mouth over the head and sucked down and bobbed his head. Dean's hands went for Sam's hips, holding them down, grabbing them, digging his fingers in the fading bruises. Sam practically screamed, tying to thrust his hips upward, making sobbing choking noises saying something that's between _Dean_ and _please._

"Come on, Sammy. Yeah, baby boy, come for me," Dean purred. And with a squeeze of Sam's hips and a lick to the tip of his cock, Sam did.

Dean swallowed him, every drop, and sucked him through it as Sam shivered and sighed beneath him.

Suddenly Dean's own dick was poking for attention. He pulled his pants down and took his hand and, with three or four strokes of his cock, he was coming, thrusting his hips downward on the bed into his hand, moaning into Sam's thigh.

Dean lies there for a bit, coming down from his orgasm high, his head dizzy, and he eventually looked up at Sam.

He was looking down at him, smiling.

Dean smiled back, and shakily sat up. Before he could get a word out, Sam was sitting up and grabbing Dean's face and kissing him; slow, warm, and soft.

Their lips parted and Sam laughed lightly. "Uh. Thanks." He said shyly.

Dean smiled. "Yeah. You're welcome." He pressed a kiss to Sam's temple, to Sam's earlobe. 

"You have beautiful hips...if you didn't know that I thought that already." Dean said shyly in his ear.

Sam snorts. "And you have a beautiful mouth, if you didn't know that I thought that already. And beautiful hands," Sam said as he interlocked his hand with Dean's.

 

Dean decided that he didn't really mind staying behind from hunts with his dad anymore.  
 _Not_ staying behind was almost unnatural to him.


End file.
